The Sister's Gift

by Barbara Hannay

  Seb was frowning as he stared at the small diamond, no longer shining, but clouded and cracked. Then he blinked, as if to clear his eyes. His Adam’s apple jerked as he swallowed. ‘You kept it?’ His voice was rough around the edges.

  ‘Of course I kept it, Seb. You wouldn’t take it back and I couldn’t bring myself to sell it.’

  His mouth was contorted now as he gave the diamond a gentle rub with his thumb. ‘And you found it after the fire?’

  ‘I did, yes.’

  ‘How on earth?’

  ‘By scrambling about in the ash and debris.’

  ‘Freya.’ So much emotion was conveyed in that single word.

  ‘It wasn’t easy to find, but I’d always kept it in a drawer in my bedside table, so I had a rough idea where it might be. I was pretty damn determined.’

  Tears glistened in Seb’s eyes now. ‘Thanks,’ he said in a choked voice. ‘That – that’s a good thought to hold on to today.’ And then he was hugging her, binding her close, as if she was the most valuable thing on earth, and her heart swelled to bursting point as it pounded against his.

  ‘I’ll buy you another ring,’ Seb said as the lift began its descent to the ground floor.

  A small laugh escaped Freya, born of conflicting emotions. Joy, disbelief, amusement, shock. ‘Not an engagement ring?’

  ‘Why not?’ Seb looked surprised and she felt caught out by her own reaction, scrambling for some kind of explanation.

  ‘Aren’t we a little old for engagements?’

  ‘I didn’t know there were age limits.’

  She gave another shy little laugh. ‘Well, no, I don’t suppose there are.’ And then, ‘But shouldn’t some kind of proposal come first?’

  ‘You’re dead right,’ Seb responded, and to her complete astonishment, he dropped to one knee in front of her.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she cried as the lift continued its downward rush. This was Seb. Alpha male. Man of the world. Slayer of hearts.

  ‘Will you marry me, Freya?’

  ‘Seb, don’t be —’

  At that very moment, the lift reached the ground floor and its doors slid open.

  Ta da.

  An elderly couple waiting outside were obviously quite startled to discover a man on bended knee with a hand pressed to his heart. A flustered glance beyond this pair showed Freya the hotel’s marble foyer where expensively suited businessmen and women were scattered in sedate groups or in patient queues. A jeans-clad family, clearly travellers, were heading towards the lift, followed by a valet and a trolley laden with luggage.

  All this she saw in an instant, as people turned to stare at them. Eyes popping, mouths gaping, delighted smiles sparkling.

  Ignoring all of this, Seb remained on his knee, keeping his focus entirely on Freya. ‘Will you?’ he asked her again.

  There had only ever been one possible answer. ‘Yes, of course,’ she told him, wondering why she didn’t feel more embarrassed.

  With a huge grin, Seb sprang to his feet and reached for her hand. It was only as he scooped up his overnight bag and they stepped out of the lift that he seemed to notice the amused onlookers. Raising his hand clasped with Freya’s in a gesture of triumph, he grinned at their impromptu audience. ‘She said yes!’

  ‘Onya mate,’ shouted a guy in maintenance overalls.

  ‘Felicidades!’ called a smiling, dark-eyed girl, who might have been Spanish.

  There was even a small scattering of cheers and applause.

  ‘You’re an idiot,’ Freya told him, turning her face into his shoulder to hide her happy blush.

  But she and Seb were grinning from ear to ear as they floated, hand in hand, across the foyer and out through the sliding glass doors to the waiting taxi.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  By the mutual consent of everyone concerned, Island Thyme was closed on the day of the surgery. Billie was relieved. She wasn’t sure she could have kept serving customers and smiling if she’d also been fretting and anxious about her mum. But this decision to close was followed by another welcome surprise. Dan had managed to organise time off as well.

  ‘I thought you might need a distraction,’ he said when he phoned. ‘If you can make it over to Townsville, we could see a movie in the morning and have lunch on The Strand and then maybe hang out at my place in the afternoon.’

  Despite her goal of independence, Billie couldn’t help feeling grateful for his invitation, although she would have liked to be clearer about Dan’s motives. She knew he wasn’t merely playing the good Samaritan, but spending a day with her couldn’t really be classed as a date. Not when she was pregnant with another man’s child.

  At any rate, she didn’t hesitate. ‘I’d love that,’ she told him, and she truly meant it. She would go mental if she had to spend the nail-biting day alone, and Dan would be the perfect companion. ‘Thanks so much.’

  The night before the surgery she spent on her own, with only Won Ton for company. A sort of freedom, perhaps, and useful practice for her planned single parent lifestyle, so it made no sense that she was restless. She didn’t only worry about her mum and Seb, but also that some dramatic development in the Townsville crime scene would mean that Dan had to work after all. The detectives on television never seemed to have time for any kind of social life.

  But there was no sudden text message from Dan calling off their rendezvous, and Billie was up bright and early. She considered dressing up for the occasion, but was wary of sending the wrong message, so she wore her trusty maternity jeans and a plain, pintucked white smock. At the last minute she added flattering pink lipstick, but she didn’t bother with other makeup, or ‘war paint’ as her dad had always called it.

  She rang her mum before she left.

  ‘I’m fine,’ Pearl told her, and she sounded unusually bright, almost excited. ‘All prepped and ready. The staff here are wonderful.’

  ‘I’m sure they are,’ said Billie. ‘You’re in very safe hands.’

  ‘I am, darling. How are you?’

  ‘Fabulous, thanks.’ Billie decided not to mention her plans for the day. Her mother hadn’t met Dan and the explanations might be unsettling. ‘Love you, Mum.’

  ‘Love you, too, darling. Take care, won’t you? And don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.’

  ‘Okay.’

  The confidence in her mother’s voice was reassuring, but when Billie arrived at the Townsville jetty and saw Dan standing there, she experienced an even higher level of reassurance in his now familiar features. And when she stepped off the ramp and onto the wharf and Dan greeted her with a smile, his deep-brown eyes were so lively and warm that her heart gave a weirdly painful flip.

  ‘Mum will be halfway through her surgery by now.’

  ‘I’m sure it’s going well.’

  ‘Yes, of course. I’m feeling better than I thought I would, actually.’ Billie smiled at her companion. ‘Thanks to you.’

  She and Dan were sitting at a restaurant table that offered a fresh sea breeze and views across Cleveland Bay. The movie they’d chosen had been most enjoyable – an amusing, farcical whodunnit, the perfect distraction – and with their delicious meal finished, they were lingering over another round of drinks, a cold beer for Dan and a lemon, lime and bitters for Billie.

  ‘I feel sorry for Freya and Dad,’ she said. ‘So awful for them to have to spend the day hanging about at the hospital.’

  ‘I imagine Seb should be back in recovery soon.’

  ‘I hope so. Freya promised she’d let me know.’ Billie checked her phone again in case she’d been too busy eating and chatting to hear the ping of an incoming text, but nothing had arrived. She gave a small huff of impatience as she set the phone aside. ‘Enough of my family dramas. Tell me more about you, Dan.’

  He looked mildly amused. ‘What would you like to know about me?’

  Why are you spending so much time with me when I’m the size of a house and there’s no chance of us jumping into bed?

  Perhap
s, if Billie had been on her second or third glass of wine, a question like this might have tumbled from her, but she was stone-cold sober, thus inclined to be cautious. She longed to know more about Dan’s wife, about his marriage, about his plans, but such questions felt too invasive. Too intimate.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ she said lamely. ‘I guess I’m just looking forward to seeing where you live.’

  ‘That’s easy,’ he said. ‘If you finish your drink I’ll show you. I need to get back anyway. Mum will be delivering Molly soonish.’

  Dan’s home, Billie soon discovered, was at Pallarenda, one of Townsville’s beachside suburbs. The house was neat, low-set, pale brick, with a shady garden. All very practical and low maintenance, but not boringly so, with an open-plan kitchen and living area, ceramic tiled floors and sliding glass doors opening onto a tiled back patio that overlooked a well-treed nature reserve. The furnishings were simple and comfortable, with well-cushioned sofas in soft sand tones that were echoed in the bleached timber shelves and tables.

  Touches of Molly’s presence were everywhere in the form of brightly coloured children’s books stacked on a low shelf, an overflowing toy box in a corner and the almost mandatory cushion in the shape of a seahorse. Billie felt immediately at home and she might have been effusive if she wasn’t being so cautious. She didn’t want to act like a woman with plans to move in.

  She was sitting on a sofa, thumbing through a travel magazine, and Dan was making cuppas in the kitchen when his mother arrived with Molly.

  ‘Helloo,’ the woman called, smiling brightly as she pushed open the insect screen and came through the open front doorway without bothering to knock. ‘You must be Billie,’ she said straight away, offering Billie a warm grin as she held out her hand. ‘Dan doesn’t tell me much about his work, but he managed to mention that you were a great witness in Cairns. I’m Grace, by the way. How do you do?’

  Billie wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but Grace Dexter was a surprise. Remarkably attractive with a glowing, smooth complexion that belied her age, high cheekbones and a wonderfully wild mop of silvery curls. She was dressed in a trendy loose grey linen shift with a chunky coral necklace at her throat, and she looked quite marvellous.

  ‘Hello,’ Billie said as her hand was gripped warmly. ‘Nice to meet you, Grace.’ She meant it, having experienced one of those instantaneous reactions of feeling completely at ease with a brand-new acquaintance.

  ‘Billie!’ squealed a small voice, and the next moment Molly rushed out from behind her grandmother to hug Billie, a rather difficult undertaking, given the little girl’s short height and Billie’s huge tummy.

  Kneeling, Billie accepted a squeezing hug and a sticky kiss on the cheek. ‘Hello there, Miss Molly.’

  ‘The baby in your tummy’s getting bigger,’ the little girl told her.

  ‘Yes, it is rather, isn’t it?’

  ‘Molly!’ warned a reproachful Dan from the kitchen. ‘That’s not very polite.’

  Grace merely chuckled. ‘You can always trust a child to tell it like it is. By the way, Dan, Molly’s already had a little after-lunch nap, so I’m afraid she’s full of beans.’ Then, with an apologetic grin and a roll of dark eyes that were very like Dan’s, she said, ‘I’m sorry, but I have to dash, or I’ll be late for my book club.’

  Setting down a bulging shoulder bag that obviously contained toys and changes of clothes for Molly, she blew a kiss in the direction of the kitchen. ‘I’ll love you and leave you, Dan.’

  ‘Thanks, Mum.’ Dan came around the counter and kissed her cheek. And then, with another smiling wave for Billie and Molly, Grace was gone.

  Such a relaxed and fuss-free encounter.

  Having experienced a lifetime of reserve and caution from her own mum, Billie couldn’t help but be impressed. She supposed Dan had inherited his mum’s agreeable nature, and she might have made a comment along these lines, but just then she heard a text message arrive on her phone. A quick glance showed it was from Freya.

  Her heart leapt to her throat as she clicked on it.

  Seb’s out of surgery and he’s fine. Scary number of tubes attached to him, but that’s to be expected. Sleeping off the anaesthetic.

  I also quizzed a nurse and all seems to be going well with Pearl. Hang in there. Love, Freya xx

  ‘Seb’s out of surgery and he’s fine,’ Billie called to Dan. ‘And everything’s going well so far for Mum.’

  Dan was pouring boiling water into mugs, but he set the kettle aside. ‘That’s great news.’ And then he came to her and took her in his arms.

  It was only a hug, a reassuring and comforting hug, but it reinforced for Billie how very much she liked this man, and how good it would be to let her head sink onto his sturdy shoulder, to press her face against the warmth of his neck. She was pretty sure it would only take a small signal from her before he —

  ‘Don’t you paint your toenails?’ demanded a small voice at floor level.

  Molly was squatting on the floor, her little forehead creased by a puzzled frown as she studied Billie’s sandalled feet.

  Billie grinned down at her. ‘Not any more.’ She patted her tummy. ‘It’s too hard to reach past my bump.’

  ‘Daddy!’ Molly cried, frowning up at her father. ‘We should paint Billie’s toenails.’

  ‘No, it’s okay,’ Billie assured the child, wishing she could stay in Dan’s arms a little longer. But he’d already released her, so she sent a quick message back to Freya.

  Such a relief. So good to hear. Love you and thanks for letting me know. B xx

  Settling once more on the sofa, Billie also considered sending a text to her dad, but Molly was clearly on a mission.

  ‘Your toes would look pretty with nail polish, Billie. Come on, Daddy. We can fix them.’

  ‘Let Billie enjoy her drink,’ Dan told his daughter as he handed Billie a steaming mug of peppermint tea.

  ‘She can drink her tea while we paint her nails,’ decided Molly. ‘I’ll get the polish.’ Without waiting for a response, she scampered off, disappearing down the hallway.

  ‘Molly!’ Dan called after her, but there was no reply.

  ‘Sorry about this,’ he said, shaking his head as he turned back to Billie. ‘But don’t worry. I won’t let her make a mess of your feet.’

  ‘I don’t really mind.’

  ‘No, don’t encourage her. She’d be a disaster.’

  ‘Actually, I thought your mother was the toenail-painting expert.’ Billie could well imagine that Grace Dexter kept her own feet looking stylish.

  ‘Oh, she most certainly is,’ said Dan. ‘But little kids can be so confident. Unjustifiably confident, of course. Molly was convinced she could play the violin after just a couple of music sessions at kindergarten.’

  ‘Oh, well,’ said Billie. ‘I guess it’s better than being shy and bashful.’

  ‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘At least school next year will bring her face to face with reality.’

  As he said this, Molly returned with a bottle of sparkly blue polish and a towel.

  ‘Oh, that settles it,’ said Dan. ‘You can’t give Billie blue toes. I know for a fact that she wouldn’t want that.’

  ‘No, no, the blue would look great. Wouldn’t it, Billie?’

  ‘Well . . .’ Billie began tentatively, not sure how to answer. She didn’t really mind. Blue was her favourite colour and nail polish remover was readily available.

  Already Molly was kneeling, spreading the towel beneath Billie’s feet and then shaking the little bottle of polish, ready to start work.

  ‘Hang on, Mollz. Careful. Maybe I should do that.’

  The little girl looked up at her father in amazement. So did Billie.

  ‘But you don’t know how to,’ Molly told him.

  ‘I painted the bathroom, didn’t I? If I can paint a bathroom, I’m sure I can paint a toenail or ten.’

  Billie might have protested, but Molly was clearly impressed by her father’s boast and quite hap
pily surrendered the bottle. A beat later, Dan was kneeling on the carpet beside Billie’s feet, and by then she was overcome with curiosity to see how he’d cope with the challenge he’d set himself. Besides, the thought of him touching her feet was kind of mesmerising.

  ‘Is there an undercoat that goes on first?’ Dan asked as she took off her sandals. His eyes held a glint of amusement and something else. A hint of smoulder, perhaps?

  Billie’s throat was tight with a new, inexplicable tension and she had to swallow before she could answer. ‘Just the colour will be fine, thanks.’

  And then she felt a little breathless as Dan positioned himself on the floor at her feet, but she couldn’t help smiling as she watched his concentration while he shook the little pot of polish, then unscrewed the lid and extracted the tiny brush.

  With his other hand he picked up her foot. Oh, help. The touch of his hand cradling her heel was way sexier than it should have been. Flashes of heat shimmied up her leg.

  Just as well Molly was there, watching them both with excited amazement.

  ‘Hey, Daddy, you really can do it.’

  ‘Told you,’ said Dan, but he wasn’t looking at his daughter. He was looking directly at Billie and the message in his eyes burned.

  Somehow they got through the toenail painting. Dan did a creditable job and his skills were praised to the skies. Billie survived without going into labour, although she was quite sure that at least some of the physical sensations she experienced involved Braxton Hicks contractions. So bloody ridiculous. She had no idea that a woman so heavily pregnant could also be turned on by a man touching her feet.

  And Molly, bless her, seemed to be in raptures over the whole process.

  Once Billie’s nails were quite dry, they headed for the beach, which was only half a block away, and they hadn’t quite reached it when Billie received another phone call.

  ‘Hello, Billie.’

  ‘Dad.’ Her grip on the phone matched the sudden tightness in her chest. ‘How are you? How’s Mum?’

  ‘We’re good, love. The surgery’s over and Mum came through like a champion.’